Chapter 6 - The Last Locked RoomAlexander reached the mansion with police in eleven minutes.
Too slow.
Victor had entered through an old service tunnel only longtime family members knew.
He took Isabella back to the eastern wing.
The same room.
The same locked door.
But this time he carried a gun.
Alexander stood outside.
“Victor.”
Silence.
“I know you can hear me.”
Victor answered.
“Come in alone.”
Police objected.
Alexander ignored them.
He entered.
Victor stood behind Isabella.
Gun near her shoulder.
Isabella looked furious rather than afraid.
“Alexander, leave.”
Victor laughed.
“She has always been dramatic.”
“What do you want?”
Victor held out papers.
“Your controlling shares.”
Alexander stared.
“You’ve lost.”
“No.”
Victor’s eyes burned.
“You still don’t understand what Morelli Global is.”
“A company.”
“It is our family.”
“No.”
Alexander looked toward Isabella.
“She is my family.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“That woman almost destroyed everything Lorenzo built.”
“My father tried to expose you.”
“Your father was weak.”
The words hung in the room.
Victor finally stopped pretending.
“He had vision but no courage.”
“You drugged him.”
“I needed time.”
“He died.”
Victor shouted:
“I DIDN’T PLAN THAT!”
Silence.
The confession echoed.
Alexander’s eyes flicked toward the bookshelf.
A tiny camera.
Police had installed it years earlier as part of the mansion’s upgraded security.
Victor did not know it had been reactivated.
Alexander kept him talking.
“And Ethan?”
Victor said nothing.
“You planned that.”
“He stole.”
“He exposed theft.”
“He betrayed the family.”
Alexander almost laughed.
“There it is.”
Victor tightened his grip.
“Sign.”
Alexander approached the table.
“Then what?”
“You resign.”
“And Mom?”
“She goes somewhere comfortable.”
Isabella laughed bitterly.
“Another room?”
Victor ignored her.
Alexander picked up the pen.
Then Isabella moved.
She drove her heel into Victor’s foot.
The gun shifted.
Alexander lunged.
A shot exploded into the ceiling.
Police rushed in.
Victor hit the floor.
The weapon slid away.
It lasted four seconds.
Eighteen years of fear ended in four seconds.
Victor was handcuffed.
As officers lifted him, he looked at Alexander.
“I raised you.”
Alexander froze.
That was true.
In his own twisted way, Victor had.
He had taught Alexander business.
Negotiation.
Strategy.
Even patience.
Alexander walked closer.
“You taught me something my father never had time to.”
Victor almost smiled.
“What?”
“How a man can possess everything and still have nothing worth keeping.”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
Police led him away.
Isabella stood behind Alexander.
He turned.
For one second neither spoke.
Then she held out her arms.
Alexander stepped into them.
At thirty-five years old, billionaire Alexander Morelli held his mother like the frightened boy who once waited for thunderstorms to pass while she sang beside his bed.
This time neither needed the lullaby.
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The locked room stood open behind them.
And it would never be locked again.
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